


Hunger

by honey_wheeler



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Canon, Casual Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: He'd known things were done differently in Dorne from Oberyn's letters. He'd no idea they were this different. His mother would be aghast, but Willas has long reconciled himself to the enjoyable paradox of life with Arianne.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the valar_morekinks prompt: Arianne/Willas + Tyene AU - What if Oberyn hadn't stopped Arianne from running away with Tyene to meet Willas in Highgarden?

It should, Willas reflects, seem stranger than it does. The Tyrells have always been as delicate as they roses that symbolize their house, his grandmother's bawdiness notwithstanding. His mother can't bring herself to say certain words that she deems too vulgar for polite conversation, even among family in the most informal of settings. Sex has always been a matter shrouded in pleasant mystery and the gentle obfuscation of night, something intimate and personal and sweetly fraught.

Yet here Willas is, midday and ballocks deep in his wife as she carries on a conversation with her cousin who lounges lazily beside them, as if sex is no more private than a leisurely stroll through a garden or a friendly conversation over dinner. He'd known things were done differently in Dorne from Oberyn's letters. He'd no idea they were this different. His mother would be aghast, but Willas has long reconciled himself to the enjoyable paradox of life with Arianne.

"I hope there's roast for supper," Tyene says, stretching like a cat and sliding the bare sole of one foot up Arianne's calf. Arianne smiles at the contact. Her hands are splayed on Willas's belly as she moves atop him with sinuous grace. Her body is all soft curves, so lush as to nearly be fat, as tempting as the ripest of fruits, which makes the strength of the muscles she tightens around his cock all the more intoxicating.

"Mmm," she hums, a pleased desert cat. "As do I."

"A man could take it as a personal lack that his lady can spare thought for supper when he's fucking her," Willas points out. His fondness for her is plain in the warmth of his voice, and she turns her smile upon him.

"On the contrary," she says. "It's your skilled lovemaking that stokes my appetite."

Willas slides his hand past hers and between her thighs, finding the sensitive spot he wants and rubbing with his thumb. A shivery moan escapes her lips, and she lets her head fall back, her long hair tickling the tops of his thighs. 

"You're all appetite," he says, meaning it as the highest compliment imaginable. She's as responsive as a finely-crafted harp, her body singing at his every touch, for all that he already fucked her in the middle of the night, then again in the morning as Tyene slumbered unknowing. He knows he'll fuck her at least once more before they sleep. That he looks forward to it even as he's yet inside her is another curiosity; he'd never expected to find that he's nearly as much a creature of appetite as she.

She increases her pace now, encouraged by his hand between them, by Tyene's appreciative murmurs. Willas has never bedded Tyene, nor even touched her as anything more than he would a good sister. As far as he knows, that's never been considered for their arrangement. Then again, he's been surprised before, so perhaps it's only a matter of time. Arianne is generous in nature, after all, particularly when it comes to sharing the delights of bedsport. Willas puts it aside to think upon another day. Now he simply submits eagerly when Arianne seizes his hair and pulls his head roughly to her breast, urging him to suckle at her sweet, fat teats the way he likes as much as she does. She cries out when she comes, not coyly or sweetly but coarsely, deep and guttural like a rutting animal, too wrapped up in her pleasure to care at prettiness. Willas bucks up into her and sets his teeth to her breast, smiling inwardly in triumph as he allows himself to follow her into climax.

She remains sitting astride him for a long while, color high on her cheeks and chest and belly, every soft bit of flesh quivering with the force of her breathing. Willas lies back to watch her as his cock softens inside her. With both hands he strokes her thighs like he would a mare after a run, making long, soothing motions, feeling her body cool and still by measures. Her own hand tangles idly with Tyene's, while Tyene's other hand toys with Willas's hair, as if she too has become so accustomed to him that she thinks nothing of it. Perhaps he'll have to bring up that sharing business sooner rather than later.

Suddenly Arianne moves, her cunt tightening around him as she gives an experimental wiggle. "Perhaps we can also have dessert?" she asks him meaningfully, a lascivious smile on her face, and Willas can only laugh deep and long, beginning to get hard again despite the scant time since he peaked. Her appetites may well be the death of him, but it will be a death well and happily earned.


End file.
